


as we are standing on our feet

by tosca1390



Category: La Vie En Roses Series - Laura Florand
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5069407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Courage,</i> she thinks. They have laid it all bare now, and she cannot risk dropping him, even with the cool reminders draped against her skin. </p>
<p>“Now what?” she asks, shyly amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as we are standing on our feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts).



*

The air in the small shop is thick with anticipation, the scent of bitter almonds lingering between them. Jess watches with careful, tentative eyes as Damien rubs his thumb over the knuckles of her left hand, catching the pad against her ring. She thinks of the watch on her dresser upstairs, a talisman in his absence ( _he would have to come back for it eventually _, she told herself every night after working on his scents and wondering if he would call). What she wants is to place it back on his wrist where it belongs and then strip him to the skin, leaving just the physical markers on each other’s bodies.__

___Courage,_ she thinks. They have laid it all bare now, and she cannot risk dropping him, even with the cool reminders draped against her skin. _ _

__“Now what?” she asks, shyly amused._ _

__Damien glances at her. She’s never seen such a smile on his face for so long. His eyes gleam, closer to grey in the dappled light of the store. “What do you mean?”_ _

__Her fingers itch and she presses her lips down on a laugh. “Just walking in with a set of diamonds? That’s all?” she teases. She hopes the moment isn’t too tentative for wit. Dry humor is a defense against the happy tears choking her at the base of her throat._ _

__His gaze flickers to the ring on her finger and the jewels at her throat and ears. The corners of his eyes crinkle. “I can’t remember if that door is locked.”_ _

__Shivers run right through her body. “You’d want me right here?”_ _

__“I want you everywhere,” he says, voice low and hot. “But I do not particularly wish to be interrupted.”_ _

__“No one would come to see me except for you,” she protests, sliding her arms around his waist to hold on tight. She likes the feel of his body against hers. On dark nights alone, after her father’s death, she would think of the phantom warmth of his body against hers, transferred from his coat to her skin._ _

__Blinking, he brushes stray curls away from her cheeks, pushing her hair back so that it falls heavy and loose down the line of her back. “You have family here, Jess. They will come and see you often and unexpectedly, usually at the worst possible time.”_ _

__Wet heat edges around her eyes. She curls into him and presses her face into his shoulder, flexing her fingers into his chest. His stark white shirt is smooth and starchy under her touch. She wants to wrinkle and rumple and make him come apart; she thinks he may let her._ _

__“Would this be the worst possible time?” she murmurs into his shoulder._ _

__His fingers twine and stroke through her loose curls, sending spirals of heat through her neck and spine. “It could be, depending on how dedicated you are to dusting.”_ _

__Jess can’t help but laugh, tipping her head up to meet his warm gaze. “Come upstairs.”_ _

__His hands flex on her back, smoothing over her blouse to her hips. “Is that an order?”_ _

__She runs her hands over his chest and up, cupping his face between her palms. Her thumbs run lightly over his cheekbones. “I’m reaching for what I want.”_ _

__Heat flares in his eyes. He turns his head slightly and brushes his lips against the inside of her arm, near her wrist. She shivers, remembering the gentleness of his touch from six months ago. “Then let’s go.”_ _

__Wetting her lips, she brings his face down to hers, kissing him softly. His hands tighten on her hips and he lifts her off of the counter and sets her onto her feet. He could easily carry her up the stairs, as he had before. But there is something essential to her control over the situation. She wants to demonstrate to him that she can take leaps, just as he did, both in her scents and in moments with him._ _

__“You can stay?” she asks, glancing up at him._ _

__He nods, gaze set and serious. “Work will be there tomorrow.”_ _

__She takes his hand in hers and leads up him upstairs. The heat of his body and his gaze beats at her back. Her grip on his hand is steady and certain, even as her pulse jumps._ _

__“You unpacked,” he says as they walk into her bedroom, the furniture taking over nearly all the space._ _

__Jess glances at him over her shoulder, on her way to her nightstand. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says._ _

__He smiles, a deep contentment in his gaze. “Good.”_ _

__She picks up his watch, cool and strong and resilient – just like him. “Take off your shirt.”_ _

__One of those dark mobile eyebrows twitches upwards. “All right,” he says, stripping off his jacket and laying it across the small chair in the corner of her room. The window is wide open, the scent of jasmine and grass on the warm breeze. Sunlight touches the dark rumpled wave of his hair, his eyes greener in the warm light._ _

__Watching him, Jess sets the watch on the neatly made bed. Barefoot, she curls her toes against the warm old hardwood. “One day, you will take me to your apartment, yes?” she asks as he shucks off his white button-down and the white t-shirt underneath and lays them on top of his suit jacket._ _

__“We could go there right now, except it would delay me putting my hands on you.”_ _

__His hands go to his belt buckle and she smiles, walking over to him. “I believe I will be the one in charge now,” she whispers, her fingers taking over for his. She bites her lip in concentration, her fingers trembling just faintly as she pulls his belt from its loops and sets it aside._ _

__His head bows to hers, his lips touching her hair. “I don’t want to spend a night away from you,” he whispers into her curls._ _

__She smiles, a flush heavy in her cheeks. Her fingers pop and unzip, pushing his pants away from his lean hips. “Good,” she whispers. “Go lay down.”_ _

__His hands pass over her shoulders and arms briefly before he moves past her, kicking off his boxer-briefs and stretching out gloriously naked on her bed. He doesn’t touch the watch, just watches her as she approaches, as she slips her blouse over her head and straddles his waist in her skirt and bra. She can feel his arousal, his length hard at her thigh, but she focuses on the flush to his cheeks, the catch in his breath._ _

__“You left your skirt on,” he murmurs, dark locks of hair falling across his brow._ _

__She leans over and kisses the hollow of his throat, just where he marked himself with her. “You like these skirts.”_ _

__“You are beautiful,” he says seriously. “In New York, your dress – you were beautiful.”_ _

__“I felt foolish,” she says, picking up his watch and slipping it back onto his wrist._ _

__“You aren’t,” he says firmly as she snaps the watch onto his wrist. “Not to me.”_ _

__“A week ago – “_ _

__“ _Jasmin_ ,” he murmurs, and she smiles softly. _ _

__“I love you,” she tells him, and lays kisses along the strong slope of his shoulder. Over one, across his collarbones, down to the other. She marks him with her mouth as he lays still beneath her, his breathing shallow and his hands at her waist. “I loved you that first night at the party. I just – “_ _

__“I know,” he murmurs, breath escaping in a hiss as she scrapes her teeth along his skin. She kisses along the delineated lines of his chest, her fingers kneading into the dark curls dusting his skin. “Jess – “_ _

__“I can’t promise you I won’t panic, or get scared of losing you again,” she says softly against his hot skin, muscle, bone. Under her, his chest stills on a held breath. His hands tighten on her waist. “But I promise I love you. I promise to be careful with the power you give me.”_ _

__“Jess – “ he says, voice ragged with want._ _

__The diamonds are cool against her overheated skin, a reminder of just how much he loves her. All his power, his strength, his passion – he placed it in these gems which will mean nothing but money to everyone else, but mean so much more to the two of them. She presses her lips to his navel and straightens, running her palms over the breadth of his chest and shoulders, feeling the indentation of rib and muscle under his skin._ _

__“I will not eat you alive,” she says softly, circling careful fingers around the watch on his wrist. “You may help me as you want to do, and I appreciate it. But I will not press.”_ _

__Damien’s gaze widens slightly, his eyebrows pleating together over his eyes. In the dappled sunlight, he looks young and relaxed despite the arousal straining through him._ _

__“I want to be a safe place for you,” she says. “I want you to come home to me and relax. I will not be another migraine.”_ _

__“You could never be,” he says fiercely._ _

__She smiles and brings his hand up to kiss his palm. “I know. I’m promising.”_ _

__His fingers graze her cheek. “All right,” he says quietly._ _

__Setting his hand down, she reaches back and unclasps her bra, tossing it aside. His hands search beneath the flow of her skirt, tracing paths over and between her thighs. He finds her panties already damp and he curses under his breath. “Jess – “_ _

__Laughing warmly, she slips off of him for a moment, shimmying out of her panties and skirt, leaving the heaps of fabric on the floor. When she climbs back onto the bed, he pulls her astride him, her thighs spreading for him as he pulls her up his chest. A flush settles over her skin. “Damien – “_ _

__“Stress relief,” he says, running his hands over the curve of her back as he guides her wet cunt over his mouth. She reaches for the edge of the heavy wooden headboard and moans as he eats at her, his tongue teasing her slick folds before flicking at her clit. He moans against her skin, his fingers biting into the flesh of her lower back and she arches, unable to keep herself from rocking into his hot mouth. Her thighs tremble and her fingers twitch against the headboard as she gasps his name, tilting her head back._ _

__Abruptly he lifts her up, shifting out from under her. “I want to watch you,” he murmurs as he lays her on her back on the rumpled bed, her head near the foot of the bed. When she opens her eyes he hovers between her spread thighs, his mouth glinting wetly in the afternoon sunlight. “Jasmin – “_ _

__Her fingers slide into his hair, tangling and pulling him back down where she wants him, where she is unsatisfied. She can smell jasmine and sex and happiness, a wish fulfilled. His tongue circles her clit as he thrusts two fingers into her, and she moans his name, curses sliding out under her breath. When she looks down the length of her body, she sees the sparkle of jasmine and his seawater eyes, one tan callused hand holding her hip as he works her with his tongue. She trembles and tightens her grip on his hair, her hips trying to rock off the bed._ _

__“Damien – Damien, come _here_ ,” she gasps, right as she lingers on the edge of orgasm. _ _

__He does; he brushes his wet mouth over her belly, nuzzling the crest of her sensitive breast as he crawls up the length of her body. Her thighs tighten around his hips as he rubs his hard length against her cunt, the sensation shuddering through her limbs._ _

__Their left hands link together; she can feel him rubbing the band of her engagement ring. He keeps his weight on his right hand, near her hair, and she reaches down to take him in hand, to guide him into her. He thrusts in and she sighs, her fingers tightening around his._ _

__“Jess,” he murmurs, voice low and guttural. She meets his hazy gaze and tips her head up to kiss him, their hips falling into a natural rhythm. Just weeks of this and it is as natural and easy as breathing, to read his body like her own. That night in New York, it had been this easy; once she overcame her nerves, to touch and kiss him and wrap her limbs around his had been the easiest thing she had done in years._ _

__They come together, a moan shared between them like breath. The cool metal from his watch presses against her skin. She feels her earrings brush her skin with every shift of her head. Sweat beads along her skin as she shudders and catches her breath. She wraps her arms around him as he slips out of her and presses kisses to his cheeks, his brow. His fingers remain entwined with hers, the pads running over her ring like a worry stone._ _

__“Are we really getting married?” she asks sometime later, once they have slipped under the lavender-scented sheets and twined their legs together. She rests her chin on his shoulder, tracing the lines of his face._ _

__His mouth turns downward. “That ring isn’t just for decoration.”_ _

__She smiles and touches the hollow of his throat. “My father would have liked you.”_ _

__“Probably not,” Damien says dryly._ _

__“Perhaps not at first,” she says, smoothing her fingertips along the lines at the corners of his lips. “But he would have liked how you talk about me.”_ _

__Damien’s arm tightens around her waist. “I am sorry you lost him, Jess,” he murmurs._ _

__She blinks away the usual grief and nestles her face into the curve of his throat. “He gave me so much. I can remember all of that, and know that he would have liked you very much, for bringing me to the harvest,” she says quietly._ _

__He strokes his fingers down her back, through her loose curls. “I’ll take you back this week. Tomorrow, if you’d like.”_ _

__“Can we go at night?” she whispers into the thin skin of his neck. “Just the two of us?”_ _

__His hand flexes against her hair. “Do you want me to make love to you in the jasmine fields?” he murmurs, voice all burrs._ _

__She shivers, the thought setting her alight. Her middle warms with his every full breath beneath her. “I thought we could make love to each other,” she says, giving his words from days ago back to him._ _

__A low soft sound escapes his throat and he curves around her even closer. “I like that idea,” he says._ _

__Smiling, she kisses the hollow of his throat. The air smells of sex and flowers, a tinge of salt from the nearby ocean. But here against his skin, there is time and loyalty and the sharp blade of his will, as well as her happiness._ _

__“I have to go to Paris next week for a few days,” he says after a few moments of quiet and peace._ _

__She tips her head up, watching his smooth face carefully. “All right,” she says hesitantly._ _

__He looks at her directly, playing with the curls down her back. The bed creaks under them as their bodies shift naturally with each other’s. “Will you come with me?”_ _

__She swallows, parsing her words. “Is there – is there a party?”_ _

__“I believe so. And I would like to walk in with Jasmin Bianchi, specialty perfumer, on my arm. Sneak off into a dark corner with her. Leave with her. Have her wear something beautiful and romantic,” he says, cupping her cheek. His fingertips slide over her skin gently._ _

__Flushing, she drags her hand over his chest. “That could be nice,” she says softly._ _

__He bends to kiss her, his lips gentle. “If you need to stay here and continue your preparations to open your shop, I understand,” he says. “But I would like to have you with me. And you could make some helpful connections.”_ _

__This is how he operates, she thinks as she strokes her hand over his skin. This is what he does to help. He is already thinking of how she can prosper and grow, while she is still mulling over the right heart notes in his scent._ _

__“Let’s see where I am next week. But I think that would be good,” she says at last, smiling._ _

__Damien kisses her again, taking his time and murmuring her name. She can see their future unfurling in her mind; a scent from an uncapped bottle._ _

__*_ _


End file.
